3320. EBB to George Goodin Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 20, 59–67.
43 Via Bocca di Leone.
Jan [8–] 10 [1854] [1]
My ever dearest George I have your letter this moment & answer it directly. I shall be vexed indeed if Arabel has not received my long one long ago, since writing which I have written to Henrietta. Mind– Two letters have gone to [sic, for from] Rome to Arabel, & one to Henrietta– I am afraid the posts are not regular. I should feel very guilty if I left you in anxiety willingly– Forgive me for involuntary sins. You make me sad about dearest Papa though you call him better & though a return of cough & asthma was a natural thing under the circumstances of your severe English season. Do let Arabel write to me every detail, for I shall be very anxious, let me struggle ever so much against it–
My dearest George I am going to calm you down a little from your vexations about this wise man’s preface to Robert Hall. [2] What we should chiefly be sorry for is that Robert Hall should have an editor with so little common sense—& for the rest, I really fail in getting up the steam to be sorry at all. When women go into a crowd they cant help being jostled a little by greasy coats—happy they, if nobody treads on their toes! Now I consider that the least of my toes is perfectly unaffected on this occasion. When you have a wife, George, keep her out of print, if you object to jostling, for she will avoid it on no other conditions—and even then, she may wear a gown too high or too low, or of the wrong colour or fashion, like Madme Soulè, & be called “Margaret of Burgundy” [3] by somebody, & you may have to fight a duel for her [4] —“who knows?” as says Penini when he is speculative exceedingly–
Let us examine the charges against me. 1st The tendency of my poetry (and of Robert’s!!!) is to Swedenborgianism. Well– I have heard that before, & I always consider it an immense compliment to my poetry. There’s great truth in Swedenborg—and if I used it before I knew it, so much the better for me, I say– But secondly .. I “was a liberal unitarian”– When was I a unitarian, I wonder? When I wrote Swedenborgian poems? That was being round & square at the same moment, understand; Swedenborgianism being the exact contradiction of Unitarianism whether liberal or unliberal– 3dly And “now I am opposed to the whole Christian church.” If that means opposed to Church-domination, priestcraft, & creeds over & above what is written in God’s Scriptures, yes, yes, it is true– (Also, I think that all the churches have something either over or under God’s scriptures—tho’ certainly I am far from pretending myself to the infallibility which I can recognize no where else–) But you will do me the justice to admit, George, that, .. however impotently & inconsistently, .. I do hold in love Christ’s universal church .. trying to “hold the Head” [5] .. believing from my heart & soul that in Him was the fulness of the Godhead bodily, [6] & that by His work we are saved. Why George—the common charge against me has always been a too unscrupulous toleration .. a willingness to walk with all sorts of company as far as we could be “agreed.” [7] A position of absolute schism my worst enemies & critics never found for me before!—— Well—now it would be easy (supposing I had the address of editors &c) to contradict what has been written of me. I might say—“The tendency of my works it belongs to my readers to decide upon,—but I take leave to say of myself personally that I never had any tendency to unitarianism, liberal or otherwise, in any part of my life,—& that, at present, if a union with the Christian church means a recognition of Jesus Christ as my Lord & my God, then is it a calumnious error to represent me as a schismatic from that church & an example of modern infidelity?” Easily I might say that—but is it worth while, do you think? Will Alfred Tennyson condescend to send a commentary on his verses, do you think?– Is’nt it far better to let one’s books & one’s life speak for one? After all it’s rather amusing to be set down among infidels by this apprehensive person, while infidels are setting one down for a fanatic .. which I am sure several infidels have done by me, though making generous admissions of my being tolerably goodtempered & gentle—“only so credulous”! A lady at Florence, literary & philosophical, [8] said to Mr Stuart lately—“I cant understand how a woman of Mrs Browning’s genius can believe as she does in the fictions of the Christian religion”–
Dearest George, I omitted to ask a question of Arabel which I hope she will answer now I do ask it, in the letter she is to write to me directly– You received your copy of the 3d edition—two were sent—C & Hall had directions to that effect—and you must tell me if any mistake occurred– Also the Hedleys had theirs? [9] Arabel saw to that?–
Poor little Edith Story has attack upon attack of Roman fever (fever & ague) every day or two, & is looking much reduced. They should take her away, I think,—she will never shake it off while she stays here for all their quinine. She has been out in the carriage twice, Penini going with her—she is very fond of him & he of her. “I love Edith more of evellybody.” “What!—more than Mama & Papa”– “Oh no– I not mean lat”–— Also Thackeray has been ill for the second time, & talks of leaving Rome “which does’nt agree with him.” That is, the combination of dining out & Rome does’nt agree with him—one at a time would answer perfectly– I propose that he should give up the dinners & remain at Rome—but it’s impossible he declares. He cant live without dinners—he must have his dinner & two parties at nights, or in the mornings he finds it impossible to set to work at Vanity Fairs or Newcomes. [10] The inspiration dries without port. By the way, let me tell you– Two nights ago we were at Mrs Sartoris’s—at a musical soirée, listening to magnificent music from herself (you know she was Adelaide Kemble) & other professional friends male & female. A great many people were there—& the excessive mildness of the night admitted of my going too. (We have a general invitation to her musical fridays[.]) Mr & Mrs Archer Clive being present, I went up to say a word to her & interrupted some talk with a pallid gentleman at her left, who looked, .. hair, complexion, even eyes, .. to have been snowed upon for a certain number of centuries till he was assimilated to snow both in colour & cold– “Mr Lockhart” [11] —said Mrs Clive– He was properly introduced to Mrs Browning– ‘Well’—said he to me .. with his lean frozen voice .. ‘I am sorry to hear that Mr Thackeray is ill.’ I said what I have been saying to you. “Dining out at Rome” he exclaimed .. if a staccato effort of the voice may be called an exclamation .. “why who can dine out at Rome? I have never dined at all since I came. I have seen nothing I could eat– And for the wine .. nobody touches it unless in search of poison– No—I will tell you what hurts Thackeray– Those girls hurt him. Those girls annoy him & teaze him. If he wants to be well, he should get a governess, or an aunt, & dispose of the girls.” I ventured a few words in extenuation of the girls, who are nice & frank—affectionate & intelligent, .. (& turn tables without touching, moreover) but Mr Lockhart was in his snow—and after all, Thackeray does complain that “domestic life is heavy on him” .. that, there’s no denying—& Lockhart understands why better than I pretend to do– From Mrs Sartoris’s we came home to a quadrille-party in the apartment below us, at Mr Page’s. He is an immense favorite with us both, & his wife had begged us so to put in our heads as we came up stairs that we could’nt say ‘no’. That was on Twelfth night you are to understand– I did’nt absolutely go into the dancing room—I stayed by the fire with Mr Page & talked spiritualism, & about what was secular & not secular .. we had a great deal of talk, and I a slice of cake, and then Robert who had been standing in the doorway of the quadrille-room, admiring the pretty women, & protesting that his own venerable age would prevent his dancing again … (“Said the Raven, Nevermore”.) [12] came to remonstrate with me for staying so late– “Anybody like me for dissipation he never had to do with”–! Robert is charmed, you know, when he can accuse me of “dissipation” before a witness– “He was dreadfully tired—but as for me I never was tired”—& so on. It[’]s the only evening nevertheless I have been out in Rome, except now & then to the Storys to have tea in quiet, & once to Miss Blagden’s festa when Penini & I went together– In fact the weather was cold here for one fortnight & I kept to the house faithfully– Now it is warm like May in England .. only moist & given to showers. We are invited to the Clives on wednesday– I shall not go, I think, but Robert will. I like Mrs Kemble—she comes here every now & then to spend the evening & has rather a leaning to me it seems to my vanity—certainly I like her. She made a curious sort of apology to us about coming to us .. to knead cake & two [sic, for tea] .. in a fine dress & white satin shoes. In the first place she liked fine dresses—& in the second, she wore her dresses in rotation & nothing ever induced her to put on the monday’s dress on tuesday—or vice versâ. If she stayed at home she wore the white satin shoes, supposing it was the day for white satin shoes– We said of course that she might dress as she pleased, as long as she permitted us the same license—for, as Robert observed, “if he wore his dresses in rotation, he should be reduced to his shooting jacket tomorrow”– She came once or twice or thrice, & looked beautiful– A noble-looking woman certainly, with splendid eyes & a voice full of soul. You may forgive to such a woman a hundred such gentle eccentricities .. & fifty ungentle, even. I am told that she is quite a creature of habit .. to the point of lighting fires & putting on flannel on a given day of the year when the cold weather ought to begin, whether it is as hot as a dog-day or not—& of persisting to walk out at noon in Italy, when the very dogs creep into the shade, because she holds exercise to be better taken in the morning–
Penini has lost all his shyness—he goes here & there .. to the Thackerays for instance .. & lets Wilson leave him. He will go out in the Storys’ carriage without any of us. His Double, whom I told you of, turns out to have lighter hair & a darker complexion than he has .. which leaves the advantage with Penini– The child is unique, I must say—a perfect darling. Within this month he has begun to write & his copybook is entirely miraculous to see– Also he has taken again to learning poetry .. real poetry this time—(“I not like Baa baa blacksheep, & those sorts of poems”)—Alfred Tennyson’s “Eagle,” and Ariel’s song in the Tempest, and Herrick’s song to the “Blossoms” [13] &c—& most beautifully he says them, with the right emphasis & expression, the infantine articulation making it all the prettier. He is rather flattered than otherwise when anyone asks him to repeat them, & performs directly with his usual vain-gloriousness. I was a little surprised to hear him at Miss Blagden’s soirée giving a ‘recitation’ on the sofa with perfect presence of mind & calmness. He has as great a passion as ever for Ferdinando– The other day he (Ferdinando) complained of feeling unwell. “I hope,” said the child (in Italian of course) “I hope, Ferdinando, you are not going to die,—because I should be very sorry .. (molto dispiacente).” “Perhaps it would be better,” replied Ferdinando, “who seems to have been in a melancholy mood—forse meglio! [14] I should go to Heaven, you know .. in paradiso.” “Well then” .. resumed Penini .. “if you died, Ferdinando, I should do like Joe .. eat a quantity of fruit & take no medecine, and then I should die too & go to you, & they would put wings on our backs and we should fly about wherever we like”– That’s an agreeable scheme for me, George—is’nt it? I did’nt much like hearing of it, I assure you–— Miss Blagden was showing him some of Flaxman’s designs for Homer. [15] On the design of the Dreams coming from Jupiter .. fantastic figures, you remember, .. his observation was .. “I think those must be God’s mitaines” [16] .. very gravely.
Now I am going to tell you something. I hesitated whether to tell you, but Arabel at least will care to hear, & I should like to tell you besides– Wilson went with Penini the other day to dine at Miss Blagden’s, where they go generally once a week—she is very kind. There was a great deal of talk of spirit-writing .. Miss Hays, the translator of George Sand, & Miss Hosmer the clever American sculptress studying under Gibson, having both the faculty, & Marianne, Miss Blagden’s maid, having just discovered that the pencil moved in her hand. Wilson, who had always laughed at these things & never thought of trying anything herself, said by a sudden impulse .. “Give me the pencil & let me try”– In half a minute the pencil seemed to leap as she held it .. & moved into intelligible letters though no legible word was made– When she came home she told me smiling .. “But,” said she, “I think there’s something particular in that pencil of Miss Blagden’s. I dont believe any other pencil would move so. Let me try.” She took up a pencil– The end of it all is this, that the faculty has developped in her to an extraordinary degree. She has had communications purporting to come from her mother, containing allusions to family affairs with earnest advice & deep affection– You laugh, George. The mere physical phenomena are extraordinary. The hand in a moment grows cold & stiff, while the pencil vibrates & moves itself– The hand simply supports the pencil. She has not the least consciousness of what is being written. At the first intelligible sentence, at that first shock of conviction, she would have fainted she says, if many tears had not relieved her. Now she is in the steady & quiet enjoyment of what she considers a great priviledge. She said to me this morning .. “I feel as if I could put off my black.” [17] Besides specific advice, such words were written as “Dear Bessy.” “Say if it is you, mother”, she asked. ‘Mother’ was written. “Are you happy?”—“yes, very.”– Now, for my part. I sate down by her the day before yesterday, & asked “if any spirit present would write its name”. Shall I tell you what happened?– The pencil turned itself round in her hand & began immediately to write backwards & upside down at once, presenting the letters to me. She cried out—“Oh, its going backwards—there’s nothing written, is there?” “Yes,” I said, “something is written.” I could read, though she could’nt—‘Mary’ was written distinctly. I said “It is a Christian name only– Will you write the other name?[”]– “Barrett” was written after. I commanded myself & asked again– “There are two bearing that name in relation to me. Will you write what relation?”– O George– ‘Mama’ was written under my eyes [18] .. turned to me carefully—that familiar word from which we have been orphaned all those years! I was very deeply moved—you will understand that. Of course you will believe nothing, any of you, but I have made up my mind to tell you whether you believe or not. You will all believe some day, sooner or later, and I cannot make it sooner than circumstances & the moods of your mind will facilitate. The communication went no further as we were interrupted––& indeed for the moment I was so naturally overcome that I felt inclined to think it was enough for once. Do you say we are going mad? “Not mad, most noble Festus”– [19] I never felt saner or less excited. I have tried for a week together at fixed hours, holding a pencil in my hand for half an hour or more & always failed, & when I had seen Wilson write … I said .. “I will try no more. I am convinced that I am not fit to exercise the faculty. There’s some reason against it”– Yesterday I sate by her again & asked “if any spirit present would write its name for me”. The pencil turned in the same way, wrote backward & upside down, presenting the word written to me, till this phrase was legible– “Write here alone”. “But,” said I, “I cant write. I have tried in vain very often. Is it ‘possible’ for me to write?” ‘Yes’ written clearly. “When shall I write?”– “Now.” “Who wants me to write?”—— Then came a beloved name [20] .. not the other. I took the pencil & sate down, feeling hopeless after all, because of a supposed impotency or unfittness in myself. After five minutes, for the first time in the course of all my experiments I felt the pencil move in a spiral sort of way, the fingers growing numb at the ends .. but the force was not sufficient to produce a stroke even, much less a letter. I was interrupted then– Still the movement was so clear to me, so unmistakeable, that I think it possible I may write still. It is just the same movement that comes into the tables when they turn. Rational people should not put away these things without examination, nor should Christian people decide the whole work to be of the devil, when there’s no devil’s stamp upon it. They should take heed lest they be found fighting against God. These things are no miracles, properly so called, but a new development of Law. I think Arabel had better not tell Mr Stratten or the Owens [21] .. because of their preconceived opinions being too strong for the just reception of the facts .. preconceived opinions of very opposite characters of course. That the Newman Street churches have been under the teaching of fallible spirits for years, I am convinced—and they mistake it for the infallible teaching of the Holy Spirit,—while contrary (which it is in my mind on several points) to the infallible teaching of the Scriptures. No doctrine should be received from spirits,—who are always fallible, but only from the Word. [22] We should all be clear upon this.
Robert is hard at work with his poems, & I too do a little work most days– We are all very well—I am especially well & able to walk out most days–
We were wan<dering thro>ugh the Coliseum yesterday, the blue sky floating through the rifts of ruin. I have had a most interesting letter from Mrs Gaskell (Mary Barton) of which there’s no room to speak. God bless you dearest dear George– Dont be vexed with me for anything in this letter, for love’s sake!—& dont vex me by paying more postage .. which we have to pay over again afterwards. So remember. <Think> of d<ea>r Mr Kenyon’s kindness. [23] I told Henrietta– Speak of Papa–
The galleries are said to be too cold in spite of the May weather! & I wait for the spring & Vatican together. Did Arabel get my second letter. Robert’s truest love to you, he says. What of Storm.
Your ever attached Ba
I dare say Arabel is horribly vexed at my imputed opposition to the whole Christian Church! Why the man makes a sort of Satan of me– The presbyterian minister [24] here does’nt think so badly of us—for having received us at the Lord’s table both of us, & Robert twice, he asked him to write his name in a book of friends which he keeps.
Love to dearest Trippy– Ask Arabel what were the initials of Eliza Giles– [25] EW .. what?
Address: Angleterre viâ France. / George G Moulton Barrett Esqre / 50. Wimpole Street / London.
Publication: B-GB, pp. 206–218.
Manuscript: Pierpont Morgan Library.
1. The opening day is based on EBB’s reference to attending Mrs. Sartoris’s musical evening “two nights ago” on Twelfth-night (6 January). Year provided by postmark.
2. Robert Hall (1764–1831), Baptist divine remembered for his eloquent preaching. One of his more popular sermons, first published in 1800, was often reprinted, and an edition had recently appeared in America, Modern Infidelity Considered, with Respect to Its Influence on Society (Philadelphia, 1853), with an introduction by John Newton Brown (1803–68), Baptist preacher and theologian. EBB refers to remarks made by Brown in a section of the introduction headed “Influence of the ‘New School’ on English Literature”: “The poetry of the Brownings has a Swedenborgian tendency; but the lady—a sincere friend of Harriet Martineau—was recently a liberal Unitarian. She turns from the whole Christian church. It has, ‘Too much of envy in its heart, / And too much striving in its hands.’” (p. 24). Brown misquotes line 3 from the first stanza of EBB’s “A Supplication for Love. Hymn I” (The Seraphim, 1838): “God, namëd Love, whose fount thou art, / Thy crownless Church before thee stands, / With too much hating in her heart, / And too much striving in her hands!” The introduction was extracted in a notice of the work in the 30 December 1853 issue of The Church and State Gazette (p. 818).
3. Or Marguerite de Bourgogne (1290–1315), wife of Louis X of France. She was convicted of adultery in 1314 and thrown in prison, where she soon died. She may have been murdered on orders from the king.
4. EBB is referring to an incident that occurred several months earlier involving Pierre Soulé (1801–70), American minister to Spain 1853–54, and his wife, Armantine Soulé (née Mercier). On 15 November 1853, the Soulés attended a grand ball in Madrid given by the Marquis de Turgot, French ambassador to Spain, to honor jointly the feast day of Empress Eugénie of France and the baptism of her niece, the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Alba. Apparently, critical comments were made about Mrs. Soulé’s gown, and the Duke of Alba was heard to have remarked in French: “Here comes Marie de Bourgogne.” Soulé’s son, Nelvil Soulé, who acted as his father’s secretary, overheard the comment, and the result was two duels: a duel of swords between young Soulé and the Duke, and a pistol duel between the American minister and the Marquis de Turgot. Neither duel resulted in fatalities and eventually there was a reconciliation, but the episodes were widely reported in the press. See A.A. Ettinger, The Mission to Spain of Pierre Soulé, 1853–1855 (New Haven, Conn., 1932), pp. 225–240.
5. Cf. Colossians 2:19.
6. Colossians 2:9.
7. Cf. Amos 3:3.
8. Unidentified.
9. See letter 3254, in which RB instructed Edward Chapman to send copies of EBB’s Poems (1853) to George, Arabella, and Jane Hedley.
10. The Newcomes (1855) was published in installments from 1 October 1853 to 1 August 1855.
11. John Gibson Lockhart (1794–1854) had retired a year earlier after more than 25 years as editor of The Quarterly Review. He had travelled to Rome in October, remaining there until the end of March 1854.
12. Cf. Poe, “The Raven” (1845), line 48.
13. Robert Herrick’s “To Blossoms,” Hesperides (1648). “The Eagle, a fragment” was first published in the seventh edition of Tennyson’s Poems (1851). EBB may be referring to the second and best known of Ariel’s songs, which begins: “Full fadom five thy father lies” (The Tempest, I, 2, 397–405).
14. “Perhaps better.”
15. John Flaxman (1755–1826), sculptor and illustrator, was in Rome (1787–94) and during this time was “commissioned to produce outline illustrations to Homer by Mrs Hare Naylor” (ODNB). These first appeared in 1793, and later “in 1805 the London publisher Longman brought out new English editions of the Odyssey, Iliad, and Aeschylus, and Flaxman added eleven new plates to the Homer illustrations” (ODNB). A new edition of Pope’s translation of The Iliad and The Odyssey with Flaxman’s designs was published in 1853.
16. Shortened form of croquemitaines: “Hobgoblins,” or “ogres.”
17. Wilson was in mourning for the death of her mother Mary Wilson (née Wallace), which occurred on 15 October 1853.
18. The other relation was sister, Mary Barrett Moulton-Barrett (1810–14).
19. Acts 26:25.
20. Probably “Edward” or “Bro.”
21. EBB’s cousin Angela Owen (née Bayford, 1810–88) and her husband Henry John Owen, a minister in the Catholic Apostolic Church—also known as the Newman Street church. Its members were often called Irvingites, for Edward Irving (1792–1834), the preacher who inspired the church’s founding.
22. One of the doctrines of Swedenborgianism, which EBB had previously mentioned to Arabella (see letter 3195, note 8).
23. See the third to last paragraph in letter 3310.
24. Charles Baird; see letter 3292, note 10.
25. Her full name was Eliza Wilhelmina Giles (née Cliffe, 1810–48).
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